


The Fellowship of Lost Souls

by Void (EroEmo)



Series: An Unexpected Journey [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Awkwardness, Bad Elvish Translations, Constant travelling, Elf!Hanzo, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Human!McCree, LoTR!au, M/M, Pining, Secret Crush, Sharing Body Heat, Silly McCree, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Young Hanzo, Young McCree, young mchanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:49:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9910010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EroEmo/pseuds/Void
Summary: Jesse is a tramp without a purpose in life. He wanders from place to place, trying to figure his life out. One evening, he meets another lost soul in a move and offers a place by the fireplace. Having a company is always better than being all alone, isn't it?





	

Fire was friendly cracking nearby, a night wind moving leaves on trees. The atmosphere was overall nice, even friendly. It was one of those rare moments when he felt at home. Not on a road or in a constant travel to somewhere else. The nature was making him feel comfortable, at ease.

Today was even more unique, taking his unexpected companion into account.

“So where are the others?” he asked casually, putting a bit more wood into the fire.

“There is no ‘others’,” the elf answered bluntly, not moving his hand from the bow of his. It had been tightly gripping it since the moment they met, the lonely elf apparently not treating him as a trustworthy companion.  “There is only me.”

“I know a bit about that,” he smirked, eyes fixed on the elf. His freshly met fellow was an extraordinary example of his kind, Jesse thought.

Not that there was something wrong with his face or gestures. They were, well, elvish. Full of grace and majesty. Some kind of magical beauty, too. Jesse didn’t find himself a big fan of elves’ appearance, he much more preferred ordinary humans to speak the truth, but _boy._ Did his company looked breathtaking.

However, said elf was a bit different in comparison to the others of his kin. He was, how to put it… Shorter. But not naturally. Just as if someone took his natural height and gave him this one instead. The elf was also strangely gloomy and grumpy. Not that Jesse had encountered many elves in the past but he had heard stories and tales, and none of them mentioned such traits. They tended to be portrayed as snobbish and sophisticated, yes, but constantly annoyed? Not really.

“Do you want some?” Jesse asked as politely as possible, offering the Grumpy Fellow a bit of his meal. “Nothing special, just herbs and vegetables, but…”

At first, the elf looked unbothered. Then, in the glimpse of an eye, he grabbed what Jesse was offering and started to eat it. Even in the hurry he remained gracious. Pretty impressive, Jesse thought as he sat back down.

He was a simple wanderer, a ranger without a destination. A homeless man of sort. He hadn’t been walking around all those lands for long but he managed to see this and that. Get into trouble once or twice. However, what’s surprising maybe, he didn’t meet another lost soul until today.

“You’re a good cook,” the elf stated suddenly, putting the wooden bowl aside. “What are you doing in such a place?”

“I told ya, I’m a tramp.”

“You mean _trespasser._ This is the land of elves, I don’t think they’re glad about you being here.”

“I don’t think they’re aware I am here,” Jesse said cheerfully, a crooked smile wandering on his features. “Unless you called for a company?”

“Truth be told, I am a trespasser, too.” Jesse didn’t think he was told stories about elves and their sad smiles. It didn’t even occur to him it was possible till now, a living example in front of him.

“Is that so?” a smile of understanding quirked on his face as he outstretched his hand. “Welcome in the fellowship.”

“Fellowship of what?” The elf snorted, the look of confusion on his features. Another thing to write into mental encyclopedia, then _. “Elves are capable of being just as mean as humans do.”_

“Those who belong nowhere.”

The sad smile returned on his face, something twisting inside of Jesse. Nevertheless, the elf took his hand and shook it. With confidence.

 

 

He dreamed of solid ground under his whole body, maybe a blanket wrapped all over him. Maybe not. Anyway, he really did want to rest.

“Hanzo, can we please stop already?”

“I told you not to call me like that,” the elf replied, his walking just as fast as before. “And no, we can’t. Not until we reach the border of this land.”

Jesse mumbled something annoyingly in a response, his foot following his fellow.

He didn’t really think he would end up in such a situation, an elf of all creatures in this world being his comate. Apparently, as the elf put it himself, having a company is beneficial to both sides. Whatever, Jesse thought as they were crossing the river, his whole body aching. They had been in a move for a whole day, Hanzo insisting on getting out of that territory as fast as possible. The problem was that his ‘possible’ was different from Jesse’s one. In other words, the elf’s quick walking meant moderate jog for him, a bit scrawny human being.

They didn’t cross the border till the late evening, sun already behind the horizon. As soon as Hanzo stopped, Jesse plummeted, a sigh of relief leaving his mouth. Finally, a rest.

Quickly enough did they make themselves comfortable, fire bringing them warmth and the sense of security. It had been a while since they, or at least Jesse, felt like that. They had been roaming through all kinds of lands for about a month now and, to speak lightly, Hanzo seemed a bit stressed. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but constantly in some kind of a fear. He asked him about that once, actually. It’s not your business, the elf replied. That would be it in the matter of understanding each other.

“Hanzo, do you know why I’m a tramp?” Jesse decided to ask, the elf grinding his arrows nearby.

“No and I told you not to-“

“Call you like that, I remember.” Jesse interrupted, looking up at his friend from the ground level. “It’s nicer, though.”

The elf sighed, as he always did when such a conversation occurred. And it was occurring quite frequently.

“I don’t know much about you _Hissaeldir,_ ” Jesse said, trying to pronounce Hanzo’s real name correctly. “But I’ll tell you something. I wish I had as strong family bonds as you, elves, have.”

“Is that so?” one of his eyebrows raised, his face somewhere between shock, disbelief and amusement.

“Yes, mostly because I have no real family whatsoever.” Jesse looked up at Hanzo, his features now confused. “Long story short I’m an orphan, you know.”

“Oh.”

And that would be it, Jesse thought, time to stop sharing life stories with strangers.

“I’d trade with you, to be honest,” Hanzo suddenly said, sadness somewhere in his tone. “I have a complicated relation with my own family and, to speak the truth, I don’t know if being a part of it is such a great thing.”

“So what, you’re a runaway?”

“More like an exile of some kind.” Hanzo corrected him gently, his gaze now fixed on Jesse. Something twisted in his stomach, elf’s eyes suddenly full of both warmth and melancholy. That was an unexpected turn of events, Jesse admitted to himself.

“So…  that’s why you’re avoiding elves’ territory? Because you try not to meet your family?”

“More or less, yes.”

Finally, Jesse understood. Nothing more had been said in that subject for the rest of a night, small talk slowly dying out but in that natural manner, sleepiness taking control and overwhelming them both.

 

 

“For the last time,” Jesse stated firmly, water dripping from, well, everywhere. “I agreed on such a thing for the last time.”

“You’ve already said that, Jesse.” Hanzo mentioned from behind, his wet clothes already tossed aside. He was wearing nothing more than underwear and it didn’t helped Jesse to remain calm or collected. Not at all.

They had barely managed to run away from that pack of orcs and honestly, using a fast-flowing river as a route of escape wasn’t, as it appeared later, the brightest idea. It was a successful but horrible idea, actually. At least in Jesse’s opinion.

Now here they were, in some kind of an abandoned cottage they managed to find deep in the forest. It was a sheer of pure luck that they stumble upon it, however finding spare piece of clothing was apparently out of fortune’s access. In other words, they were forced to sit almost naked side by side under blankets so that they didn’t freeze to death.

If that was a usual situation, Jesse wouldn’t mind. He was perfectly aware it was only to keep each other warm, a tactic to survive without putting a fire on. However the problem was that, to Jesse complete and utter confusion, he was slowly falling for Hanzo.

His crush on elf started innocently, as if it was a warm kind of friendship feelings and nothing more. And then it sucked him straight into this hole resembling a fine mixture of emotional Mordor and Rivendell. It was his doom and paradise, damnation and salvation. It was only recently when Hanzo started to act more friendly towards him, almost all gloominess gone from his features. It wasn’t helpful. Jesse had fallen for a cold, distant elf and suddenly having a kind one instead meant nothing more and nothing less than falling even harder.

And so were they sitting next to each other, their clothes drying in the corner of the cottage, rustling trees outside the only sound. Jesse couldn’t tell whether he was the only one slightly uncomfortable out there or not, but he sure was the only one with all limbs. Hanzo, as it appeared, was missing something. Even two somethings.

They’d been wandering for so long that Jesse, of course, had eventually asked him about his height. At first, Hanzo didn’t reply. Then, when some time passed, he gave an answer. It appeared that he had an accident as a child, two artificial legs the constant reminder of that day. He didn’t go into details with Jesse but, as far as he understood the story, those were made by an artisan and a spell was put on them by a wizard so they would last longer or something.

Either way, it was quite an experience to see them uncovered, no piece of clothing on the prosthetics to hide their _beauty._ Not entirely wooden but not metal either, a fine combination of the two used in the creation. Jesse had only a basic knowledge of many things but he didn’t need to be an artist to appreciate the artistry of them.

However, he felt weird to say that out loud. To say anything about elf’s artificial legs in general, to be honest. He felt it was a sensitive subjects and since they were on good terms he didn’t want to ruin it. Especially because only one genuine smile was enough to give him a special kind of heart attack.

So, in the end, he said nothing at all, the silence settling even more.

Something cold touched Jesse’s arm and made him shiver, quick glance making his heart skip a beat or two. Hanzo’s slender finger was trailing all over his arm, slowly yet constantly moving onto his back.

“That’s interesting,” he mumbled, more to himself than to him.

“What’s so interesting?” Jesse enunciated, his voice strangely hoarse and quiet. Apparently it snapped Hanzo out of some kind of a trance because the hand stopped tracing his back.

“It’s just…” he hesitated, eyes wandering all over the place before finally landing on Jesse’s face. “Your freckles and moles resemble a constellation.”

“Oh, really?” an amusement creep in his tone, a smirk wandering on features.

“And here I see another one,” Hanzo said calmly while trailing another shape on Jesse’s bare skin, shivers going down his spine with each movement. “Oh, and yet another one here.”

“It seems I’m a walking night sky, then,” he joked, a crooked smile brightening his face a bit. Nevertheless, nothing prepared him for the sound he heard seconds later.

It was so delicate, so sublime it seemed unreal. And yet here it was, reaching his ears and having its source right next to him. He had never heard a story of a laughing elf. He also never noticed Hanzo to even giggle or something. And now he was _laughing,_ trying to hide it but miserably failing. It was an amazing thing.  A cute one, too.

“You’re so dumb, I swear,” he finally said, Jesse strangely not minding his words. It almost sounded like a compliment in his opinion.

“But you put up with me so hey, where is your pin for that?” Hanzo dunched him and once again, Jesse didn’t mind. However, he did mind his own hair falling straight into his eyes. He reached to it, trying to put it aside somehow but it seemed to live on its own, falling back on his face each time.

“You need some help?” Hanzo offered, his slender hand inches apart from Jesse’s head. “You need to take care of it, you know.”

“It used to be shorter, you know,” Jesse bitted back in a friendly tone, his fellow helping him with harnessing the mess on his head now.

He didn’t really notice how long his hair was until now, mischievous streaks protruding in all possible directions. He had no idea how to deal with them beside cutting them all off. It turned out, however, that Hanzo knew what to do. He helped him with combing it and more or less harness the whole chaos, everything less annoying now.

Jesse thanked him, a tiny bit of embarrassment wandering in his voice. It was so strange, so bizarre – having an elf to sit next to, and to comb your hair. If someone had told him in the past that he would eventually end up in such a situation, he would brush it off, laugh at it. And yet here he was, miserably failing not to fall for Hanzo even more than he already had.

 

 

“Have you ever thought about settling down?” Jesse asked one time, their journey amazingly calm and peaceful, nothing but ocean of grass around them.

“Have you?” Hanzo answered from the above, one of lonely trees a perfect vantage point. They didn’t really have a map nor an explicit path to follow. It was easy to get lost, nature beautiful but treacherous.

“Maybe,” he leaned on a trunk, his heavy backpack on the ground nearby. “But you still haven’t answered me, Hanzo.”

“I don’t know,” in a minute he got off the tree, now standing on Jesse’s right and curiously looking at him. “I’ve certainly thought about moving as far from any elves’ territory as possible but not about anything after that.”

“Don’t you think it would be nice, thought? Having a place you could call home,” Jesse continued, trying to focus on something different than Hanzo’s silky hair or his majestic posture. Lately it had been extra hard to concentrate as the elf seemed more friendly than ever, casual arm brushing or hand touching so common he thought he would die from tachycardia or other heart related problem.

“Do you, though?”

“I’m a tramp since I can remember, Hanzo. Having a stable life sounds somewhat appealing, you know,” a sad smile appeared on his face, eyes now wandering all over the highland. “Sure, being a wandered has its charm but I don’t think it’s exactly what I want in life.”

Hanzo hummed in the response, now both of them looking ahead at the sea of green. Then, a wild thought appeared in Jesse’s mind. It seemed so bizarre and yet, so tempting, that he could not resist. So he asked.

“Would you live with me?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t know what to do beside avoiding other elves, would it be that bad to put up with me for a bit longer in one place?”

Hanzo’s look went through a few stages. First was an utter shock and disbelief. Then appeared confusion and some signs of inner battle. In the end, his eyes were filled with anxiety. And, if Jesse read that one correctly, hope.

“I know I’m not the best companion an elf could wish for but am I really so horrible?”

“Well…” Hanzo started, a smirk quirking on his features. Jesse nudged him for that, short laugh escaping elf’s mouth right after. He really liked this place they currently were in, in their relationship.

Friendly teasing, casual touching. Puzzled looks he could not read yet but tried his best to understand them. Joking and laughing under the ink black sky, Hanzo telling him stories about the constellations and elvish love for moon and stars. Complaining on each other during long and monotonous journeys through harsh environments. Just being together somewhere in this huge and amazing world.

“We could search for a place far away from elves’ lands but somewhere nice and cozy, maybe in a neighborhood of human’s villages…”

“It almost sounds as if you were marrying me,” Hanzo interrupted, sparkles of joy and amusement in his eyes as he spoke.

Jesse looked at him, realized what the elf said and what _he_ said, froze in place and then turned red on a face. Suddenly everything was overwhelming and basically too much for him to handle, mumbling something to himself and hitting a trunk with his head the only logical reply he could think of.

Hanzo rushed to him, probably wanting to ask what happened and if everything was alright, when out of blue it obviously wasn’t. Before he had a chance to even touch his arm, Jesse abruptly scooted over, his feet catching on a root. Saying he gracefully hit the ground was way too much. He just, well, miserably and hilariously spilled. He could say just as much from Hanzo’s shrilling laugh, usually a music to his ears but now nothing but a sign of his complete failure.

“You’re a bizarre human being, Jesse,” he reached to him, helping him get up and get rid of these few leaves which happened to enmesh into his hair and clothes. “ _Ananta melinyel.”_

“What did you just say?” Jesse wished he knew Quenya or basically any language elves tended to use. It sounded really nice and was, well, useful at times.

“That you’re incredibly dumb,” Hanzo answered and earned a nudge, smile quirking on his face nevertheless.

Jesse thought they were a bizarre duo. A short elf on banishment and an orphan-tramp with no place to call home. A true fellowship of lost souls.

As he was grabbing his belongings from the ground, he reached to Hanzo’s hand. Not because he was falling again or need reassurance of some kind. He just felt like it, like taking his crush’s hand into his own. It was impossible to tell how the elf would react, really. However, Jesse hoped Hanzo wouldn’t whip his hand.

And he didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a really bad time and I tried to cheer myself up by watching Hobbit for the 24976123 time. Somewhere in the middle of the first part, this AU was born, and let me tell you I'm weak for elves.
> 
> \- "Hissaeldir", as far as I know, means "wise eyes" + "-dir" which indicates young male  
> \- "Ananta melinyel" can be translated into "and yet, I love you"
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading my piece, I appreciate every kudo & comment ♡


End file.
